Chapter Five
By the time the evening news aired that night, I was on every channel.
“Once an extreme advocate against violence, it seems Elizabeth Stanfield is now getting drunk, fighting with models and studio heads as well as her new fiancé. Is America’s Sweetheart not so sweet?” The TV news anchor announced.
“Turn it off please,” I begged Carol. I really couldn’t take much more of the broadcast.
“I told you not to go and see him, look what happened,” she scolded.
I was lying on a black leather couch in the media room. There was a room tucked away at the back of my house that was built like a theatre. A large movie screen filled the wall at one end, with a large black sectional couch along the back wall. In the middle of the room there was stadium seating that consisted of oversized, plush, La-Z-Boy chairs. Surround sound speakers embedded in the walls and pot lights that could be dimmed or brightened, depending on what I preferred.
The media room was usually where I would hide if I felt the need to. There were no windows, and if my cellphone was turned off, there was no way to contact me.
Carol turned off the news and I buried my head into the blanket I was under, cuddling it like a child.
“What were you thinking?” Carol asked.
“I was thinking, hey the street is empty. I didn’t think anyone would be hiding.”
“Are you new to this paparazzi thing?”
Before I could give a sarcastic retort, my cell phone began to ring again. It had been ringing non-stop since I hung up on Al hours before. I checked the caller ID to see if it was Billy, but it wasn’t. It was my home landline.
“What on earth?” I answered. “Hello?”
“Where the hell are you?” Al questioned.
“In the media room, where are you?”
“In the kitchen. I have searched this house high and low for you. I need to speak with you. Don’t move, I’m on my way.” He disconnected.
“Carol?” I asked as I put my cell down. “Do we still have security guards here?”
Seriously, how did people keep getting into my house?
“Yes, dear, they know who the usual visitors are and just wave them through.”
“Ah,” I answered as Al came through the door. He seemed disheveled, I must have been making him work overtime lately.
Al and Carol greeted each other warmly then he turned to me.
“We need to figure out our next move here.” He started on me without even a hello.
“I’ll go and get some dinner prepared for you two,” Carol announced, and left the room.
Al sat on the couch opposite to where I was curled up.
“We have to do some major damage control. Your sweet girl reputation is waning over this and we need to repair it, fast.”
“Why? What difference does it make? Let everyone think I’ve gone off the deep end,” I grumpily responded.
My mood was not helped by the fact I hadn’t eaten anything more that day and my headache was back.
“I think you need to start making some appearances.” Al ignored my whining.
“I’m not up for any appearances.” Oh God, please no appearances. I loved being a star but sometimes making an appearance at a function felt fake, and I hated feeling that way.
“You need to, because we need people seeing you out in the spotlight laughing and being your normal, loveable self.”
“Lame.” Totally. There couldn’t be anything more disingenuous.
“Wasn’t my idea and you are going to do this,” he continued. “We’re also going to send out a media campaign with some good stories about you. Expect to see your name in the media a lot the next little while.”
“I already am.”
“Better stories than what they are posting now.”
“You really don’t need to work too hard on this. It’ll blow over soon enough.” It was true, the media was pretty fickle and once another celebrity screwed up they would flock over to that story and leave me alone. Plus, I was really trying to get out of all of it.
“Maybe, maybe not, but we have to try in the meantime. I’ll call you later with our schedule of events.”
I buried my head into the blanket and curled up in a fetal position once he was gone.
***
The next morning, I woke up with a slight headache from not eating much the day before. Al had texted to say I had an appearance at a children’s hospital and needed to be ready early in the morning for the car to arrive at nine.
By eight o’clock, I was up, dressed, and Carol had forced me to eat. My makeup and hair stylists showed up a little after eight and did their magic to make me presentable.
“You look darling,” Carol commented when I went to the kitchen for a drink.
I was wearing a white cardigan on top of a straight, knee length, blue with white flowers dress and matching white sandals.
“Thank you, but I don’t feel like it.” I was still heartbroken over Billy and didn’t feel very prepared to be in public.
As I put the glass to my mouth, my makeup artist took it away from me.
“Sorry, Beth, but I need you to look perfect.” She began dabbing at my lips. “There will be a ton of cameras there.”
“Oh goody.” I pouted, feeling less than enthusiastic.
The doorbell rang and Al’s voice could be heard booming through the house.
“Seriously, where is security in this house?” I asked.
Carol began to chuckle.
“Let’s go,” Al demanded as he entered the kitchen.
“Okay,” I sighed deeply, I wanted to go back to bed and stay there for the rest of the year.
Out on the driveway, the driver was standing holding the limo door open for us. I slid onto the back seat and was surprised to see Billy sitting opposite me.
“Billy,” I excitedly greeted him.
He didn’t respond and barely looked my way, which made my heart sink again.
“Okay, here’s the deal,” Al began as he sat next to me and the driver closed the door. “I’ve done a lot of work to set this up quickly. You two are going to act the way you used to with each other, especially in front of the cameras.”
Billy began to protest.
Al raised a hand to stop him. “I don’t care if you’re upset because she’s engaged to a douche, as you call him. I also don’t care,” he rounded on me, “if you’re upset that he’s mad or that he’s spending time with a crazy ass woman like Elena.”
Billy and I began to grouse at the same time.
“Enough.” Al raised his voice over ours. “I want no bickering, no pouting, and no fist fights.” He squared me with a glare.
I folded my arms across my chest and Billy turned and watched the scenery out the moving car windows.
“You will be cordial to each other and the press,” Al continued with his rules. “You will laugh and joke around.” He turned his attention to me. “If the press asks you any questions about your adventures the past few days, answer them by apologizing that you had been drinking and things got out of control.”
“You want me to apologize?” I asked, disgusted. “Those horrible women started it each time.”
“I want you to apologize for your behavior, not to anyone in particular.”
“I could use an apology,” Billy mumbled, still staring out the window.
“I tried to apologize to you, but you wouldn’t speak to me,” I snapped back, desperately trying not to punch him.
His only response was to glare at me.
“This is the sort of thing,” Al broke the silence, “that I do not want happening in front of the cameras.” He rubbed his forehead as if we were giving him a headache. Sometimes I wondered if Al thought of Billy and I as children he had to reign in all the time…or make excuses for.
The car veered into the hospital and pulled up to the front doors. There were easily a hundred photographers waiting for us to arrive.
“Now, just remember,” Al sternly reminded us. “Smile and pretend you’re not mad at each other. You’re both Academy Award winning actors, you should be able to pull that off for an hour.”
Billy turned his glare to Al and I glared at Billy.
Billy was so frustrating. I understood why he was upset with me, but I had tried to speak with him to explain and he ignored me. Then he had the nerve to say he wanted an apology. Bull-headed ass.
Al got out of the car first and held out his hand to me. As soon as I stepped out of the car, the cameras began snapping and the questions came flying at me from every angle. I did what I was told to do and I smiled for them all.
“Don’t answer anything yet,” Al whispered in my ear.
Once Billy was out of the car, we proceeded inside the hospital where we were met by the promotions manager for the hospital.
“Thank you so much for coming,” she greeted us as we slipped in the doors. “My name is Jennifer. Al, we spoke on the phone.”
Al greeted her warmly and they discussed the agenda of our visit while Billy and I stood side by side but did not look at each other or dare to speak. Jennifer explained we were to meet three specific children, in their rooms with a camera crew filming each of the encounters. Reporters were camped out front of the hospital and it was agreed upon that after the visits were complete, we would then answer questions from the journalists. Until then there were to be no questions from the media.
We made our way through the hospital with security on either side of us. The first child was in the surgery unit.
“This is where kids that have had recent surgery are recuperating,” Jennifer explained as we came through the doors.
“What kinds of surgeries?” Billy asked.
“We have anything from a boy with a broken ankle that needed to be repaired to a little girl who had part of her liver removed because of cancer.”
We rounded a corner and were met with a camera crew that immediately began recording.
Billy and I smiled at the camera as we passed by which felt insincere and I hated doing that to my fans.
“In here is the first child you will be meeting,” Jennifer began explaining. “Her name is Emily, and she is so excited to meet you two. She’s twelve and she has broken both legs in a recent car accident. Hi, Emily,” Jennifer spoke as she opened the door.
We all entered the room, including the camera crew. The room was a typical hospital room with white walls, a window overlooking another wing of the hospital, and a bed in the centre.
There was a television, video game console, and board games stacked on a table. Emily had short brown hair and beautiful blue eyes. She was sitting upright in her bed wearing the cutest pink, blue, and white jammies with both legs in pink casts. I immediately liked her.
Jennifer introduced us to Emily and then turned her attention to Billy and me. “This is Emily Whithouse, her sister Cara, and their mother Irene.” She gestured to the women sitting next to the bed.
Cara was an exact replica of Emily except she looked to be about seventeen. The only difference between the two girls was that Cara had cuts all over her face. Irene, their mom, physically resembled her girls but had an exhausted air to her.
“Nice to meet you all.” Billy advanced towards the bed and shook their hands.
Pleasantries were exchanged between all of us and they gushed about how much they loved the movies we were in. I sat on the opposite side of the bed from Emily’s family.
“So, tell me, Emily, what happened?” I asked bluntly. Billy shot me a disapproving glare but I ignored him, curiosity got the better of me.
“Well,” she began shyly. “My sister was driving us home from school. We were going through an intersection when a car ran the red light and hit us.”
As Emily spoke, I could see the color drain from Cara’s face. She kept her head down and wouldn’t look at anyone. A true sign of someone who felt guilty and my heart hurt for her.
“That’s not good.” I focused back on Emily. “I assume he hit your side of the car?”
“Yes.”
“How are you doing, Mom?” I turned to Irene, who seemed more at peace than Cara.
“I’m just thankful that they are all right. I can handle two broken legs and some scratches compared to what it could’ve been.”
“Amen to that,” Billy chimed in from his standing position at the foot of the bed.
“You know,” I directed to Emily, “Billy and I were in a car accident once.”
“Really?” Emily excitedly asked, presumably thinking she was no longer the only person that has ever been in a car accident.
“Yes,” I continued. “A car came up behind us really fast and smashed us up pretty good. Billy broke his wrist.”
“You did?” Emily turned to Billy.
“That part is true,” Billy began. “I did break my wrist. However, the accident happened when Elizabeth thought she had the car in the drive gear and went to take off only to find out she was in reverse and slammed hard into a parked car behind us.”
“The point is,” I cut in, “accidents will happen and it’s no one’s fault.” I smiled at Cara.
“Thank you.” Cara smiled back. Billy and I exchanged warm glances hoping we had helped her feel a little bit better.
Billy and I continued to speak for a little while longer, asking Cara and Emily about school and their friends.
“Unfortunately, we must stick to our schedule,” Jennifer announced. She seemed organized and was making sure everything ran smoothly, she reminded me of Al.
Before we left, Billy and I signed some autographs, took some pictures, and hugged all three of them goodbye.
“The next child we are going to see is Samuel Holly, Sammy for short,” Jennifer explained as we rode the elevator to the fourth floor. “He has a rare genetic disease that affects his lungs, similar to severe asthma. He has to be hospitalized every few months for treatment.”
“He’s basically a permanent fixture around here then?” Billy asked as we exited the elevator.
“Yes, he is, but he takes it all in stride. You’d have no idea this kid was even sick and, Billy, he loves you.”
“Really?” Billy smiled, I knew he loved hearing things like that.
“You are his hero. He has seen all of your movies. He follows you on the news and online. He even knows what kind of cars you drive.”
“Wow, he does his homework.” Billy sounded impressed with his young fan.
Jennifer opened a hospital room door and announced our arrival. She introduced us to Sammy and his parents, as Sammy stared wide-eyed at Billy.
As soon as the introductions were complete, Sammy, who looked to be about twelve or thirteen years old, ran to Billy and hugged him.
“Sorry,” Sammy said, pulling away. “I meant to be cooler than that.”
“Not to worry,” Billy chuckled.
“Come see all the stuff I have,” Sammy said to Billy.
They went over to the bed and began to discuss all the posters, pictures, and magazine articles that Sammy had acquired.
I looked around the room. It was quite like Emily’s room with a television, video games, books, and puzzles. The only difference was a breathing machine next to the head of the bed.
“When does he need to use this?” I asked his mother. She was a pleasant looking woman, she resembled Sammy a lot, and there was no confusing who his mother was. She was smiling and seemed genuinely happy for her son. She didn’t have the tired, exhausted look of Cara’s mother.
“He needs it when he has an episode, which is similar to an asthma attack. He also needs it for his treatments.” She smiled warmly at me. “Please don’t take it personally that he’s more focused on Billy. He’s been an enormous fan of his for as long as I can remember.”
“Oh God, no worries,” I reassured her. “I’m just happy we could be here and meet him.”
I sat next to the bed on the opposite side to where Billy was going through the items Sammy was showing him. Sammy’s father, who resembled a line backer, had also joined in on the conversation. I got the feeling he too was as big of a fan as Sammy was.
They talked about Billy’s movies, his personal cars, and about the next movie Billy was going to do.
“You’re finally going to be in another movie with him?” Sammy acknowledged my presence for the first time.
“Yes, this will be our first movie together in almost twenty years,” I answered, smiling at Billy.
“It’s about time,” Sammy remarked.
Billy barked with laughter while Sammy’s parents scolded him.
“It’s okay,” I said to his parents. “He’s absolutely right, it’s been a long time coming.”
“Why did you hit that girl at Billy’s party the other day?” Sammy bluntly asked.
“Sammy!” his father chided.
“I didn’t hit her,” I corrected. “I almost hit her.”
“Cool, cool, I get that. Any particular reason why?”
“She said something I didn’t like, but I shouldn’t have reacted that way either.”
“I got it. You were drunk.”
“Yes.” I smiled. “I was.”
Our conversation seemed to end there as Sammy turned his attention back to Billy, asking him questions about the movie we were about to start filming.
Our time came to the end with Sammy, but before we left we took pictures with him and signed some autographs.
“Unfortunately, Sammy is our last patient that we will be visiting today,” Jennifer told us once we were in the hall and the cameras had stopped filming.
“I thought there were three?” Billy asked.
“I just got word that where the third patient is located, there is not to be any camera footage today, out of respect.” Jennifer explained.
“Why?” I hesitantly asked. That couldn’t have been a good sign in a children’s hospital.
Jennifer took a deep breath as tears welled up in her eyes, she looked absolutely crest fallen.
“Sadly, one of the patients on that floor lost their battle with cancer a little while ago.”
“Oh no,” Billy and I answered at the same time.
The air around us seemed to get heavier and filled with sadness. It always amazed me how people worked in situations where these things could occur. They were much stronger than I was.
“It’s too bad because Katie was really looking forward to meeting you both,” Jennifer continued. “She has leukemia and the thought of you two visiting really perked her up. However, let’s go out front for the media and their questions.”
Billy and I exchanged knowing glances. There was no way either of us were leaving without meeting Katie.
“We’d still like to meet her without the cameras,” Billy told her.
“I can’t have this many people on the floor.” Jennifer gestured towards the entourage of people we had with us.
“Then just the three of us will go,” I responded, meaning Jennifer, Billy, and myself.
Jennifer stopped walking down the hall and faced the two of us.
“Are you sure? I thought this was a publicity stunt.”
“Some things are more important than publicity, right, Al?” Billy stated, sharply.
“Yeah, I guess.” Al sighed, acting like a typical publicist.
Jennifer, Billy, and I then left Al, the security guards, and the cameras behind and went up to the fifth floor.
“We need to be very quiet, the entire floor grieves when one of the children passes.”
“Does this happen often?” I asked, silently praying she would say no.
“Sadly, yes.” Damn. “The fifth floor is the terminal cancer ward. Very rarely when a child is placed on this floor do they get to go home,” Jennifer stated, matter-of-fact.
The heavy air became even thicker when we exited the elevator. The floor was eerily quiet and the few nurses we saw on our way through kept their heads down, focused on whatever they were doing. It was a heartbreaking feeling to be on the floor of a hospital where everyone was grieving for their friend. I’m sure that made all of them think of their own mortality, which isn’t something a child should be worrying about.
We slipped down an empty hallway. I noticed the bright fluorescent lights overlooking the overpowering, white empty hallway was a brilliant contrast to the mood of the floor. We entered the next door on our right and before any introductions were made, Jennifer closed the door behind us.
“You came?” a frail little girl excitedly said from her bed.
She was alone, except for some teddy bears. Unlike the other children we had met that day there were no family members with her. Her room was bright and cheery like the others had been, but there were more machines and her arm was attached to an IV drip.
“We must be quiet,” Jennifer began. “Billy and Elizabeth, I’d like to introduce you to Katie.”
We said hello and went to either side of her bed.
Katie was a slender, pale, eight-year-old with bright green eyes and a scarf around what I assumed was her bald head.
“I was told you couldn’t come because of Chloe.”
“We wanted to meet you.” I smiled at her. My heart broke at the thought that this child was so sick but I wouldn’t let my true feelings show. It was bad enough she had to endure the pain and treatments, she didn’t need me breaking down in front of her.
“We couldn’t leave without coming to see you.” Billy agreed with my sentiment.
“Did you know Chloe?” I asked, willing myself not to cry.
“Yes, she had the same kind of cancer I have, so we would talk about it until she couldn’t walk anymore.” She played with the bow on one of her bears as my heart shattered a bit more.
“It’s hard losing a friend, isn’t it?” Billy asked. He was such a rock, while I could barely speak.
“Yes, so many of them have gone and I miss them, but I know that I will probably join them soon.”
“Don’t say that.” I was shocked that an eight-year-old was talking frankly about her own death. This is not a conversation I should’ve been having with someone her age. It was wrong on so many levels.
“I try not to think about it, but every time someone goes to sleep here, it makes me think about when I must go.” Katie continued to play with the bow on the bear.
“What do you mean by go to sleep?” I asked, confused.
“That’s what we say here,” Jennifer began to explain. “When one of the children passes, we say they have gone to sleep.”
I almost burst into tears at Jennifer’s response. I desperately held my feelings in check but it was getting harder and harder. I wanted to hold little Katie in my arms and tell her that everything was going to be okay. If it was up to me, she wouldn’t go to sleep for an extremely long time. My issues in this world suddenly seemed very insignificant.
“Let’s not think about that now.” Billy cheerfully, changed the subject. “Where are your parents?”
“My mom has to work.”
“Her mother,” Jennifer continued for Katie, “is a single parent and has to work several jobs to pay the medical bills. She can only visit on weekends.”
That was it, my heart hit the bottom of my stomach at the thought that a mother who had a child this sick couldn’t see her daughter daily or even hourly.
“I told her about Chloe and she is coming tonight to visit.”
“Who’s this?” Billy once again changed the subject and began a conversation with Katie about her teddy bears.
He did such a good job cheering her up you wouldn’t know the air was heavy. As I watched Billy playing with Katie’s bears, he asked her about her mom, her friends, and he seemingly got her to forget her very real problems, if only for a moment. I could see in that moment that he would be a great father, but more importantly he was a good man.
We spent almost an hour with Katie before she became quite tired. We said our goodbyes and slipped off the floor as quietly as we had arrived.
When we met Al at the main entrance, he was almost in a panic state.
“What took you so long? Do you have any idea how pissed off the press is getting?”
“I don’t care,” I responded honestly. “Some things are more important than the media. Where’s Mandy?” I asked, looking for my personal assistant in the sea of people that surrounded us in the main hall.
“Right here,” Mandy called from behind a couple of security guards. She squeezed through and joined us.
“Get all the information from Jennifer here regarding Katie, the patient that we just saw.” As I spoke Mandy pulled a piece of paper out of the clipboard she was holding and began writing what I was telling her. “Then call my accountant George and tell him to set up an account to pay all of her hospital bills and continue to pay them for the rest of her time here.” I couldn’t bring myself to say it any other way.
“Absolutely.” Mandy focused on Jennifer.
“Wait, what?” Jennifer asked, sounding surprised.
“Jennifer,” I rounded on her. “Make sure no one finds out about this.”
“Mandy,” Billy spoke. “Tell George to pay her mother’s rent and bills from my accounts for the time being and when it is time for Katie’s funeral, I will pay for that as well.”
“Are you guys serious?” Jennifer practically yelled, seemingly in shock.
“Very,” I responded unwaveringly. Tears welled up in Jennifer’s eyes.
“Tell Katie’s mother to quit her extra jobs and get her ass here to be with her kid,” Billy chimed in.
“Again,” I sternly continued, to Jennifer. “No one is to know about this. Understand?”
Jennifer nodded her head in response while Billy and I proceeded to face the media, leaving Jennifer’s shocked questions to Mandy.
Chapter Six
Outside the hospital, there were at least twenty reporters and cameras in front of us. Speaking directly to the media during a press conference was not something I enjoyed. Ever.
“Why did you hit Brianna Thompson?” one reporter shot out the question before I even got to the microphone.
“Who’s Brianna Thompson?” I asked, just to be a bitch.
“You hit her at Billy’s party and you don’t know who she is?” a different reporter questioned.
“First off, let me clear this up,” I spoke, matter-of-fact. “I am just joking. I do know who she is and I didn’t hit her, I almost hit her. There’s a difference. I have apologized to Brianna and it’s all water under the bridge now.”
I had sent Brianna a bouquet of flowers with an apology note. I didn’t mean one word of it, but Al had made me send it.
“What happened that made you take a swing at her?” someone from the back of the crowd asked.
“It was just a misunderstanding,” I stated quickly, trying to end that line of questioning.
“What about when you jumped into Elena Jarvis’s car and tried to take a swing at her? Was that a misunderstanding as well?” the same reporter in the back demanded to know.
Everyone went silent, waiting for my response.
“No, that was deliberate,” I answered honestly, without any emotion on my face.
A flurry of questions was then hurled at me from every angle, but one question stood out.
“Is it because she is trying to cancel your contract for the movie that Billy is producing in Las Vegas?”
“Where did you get that from?” Billy, in one rapid movement, had moved to the microphone and cut in.
“I have my sources,” the reporter boldly responded.
“Your source is wrong.” Billy’s anger was showing on his face.
By this point, all the other journalists were quiet and watching the exchange.
“No, they aren’t.” The fearless reporter persevered. “They were quite adamant that Elena has another actress in mind for the lead and she wants Antonio Suarez to direct it.”
I thought Billy’s head was going to pop off.
“Antonio Suarez will be nowhere near my movie set, nor will any other actress be the lead, understood?” Billy answered evenly. However, there was a slight danger in the tone of his words.
The reporter must have heard it as well because he backed off. Before another question was asked, Al jumped in and thanked everyone for coming. We were swiftly whisked away by security to the waiting car.
“The nerve of that guy talking shit like that,” Billy lamented once we were safely tucked inside the car.
I didn’t say a word.
“I mean, as if Elena was doing that. I’m the producer and all decisions go through me,” he continued to rant.
“Technically, the studio head can override any decision made by the producer,” I interjected.
“Okay,” Billy paused. “You’re right they can, but she wouldn’t do that.”
I didn’t answer. I turned my head and watched the cars pass next to us as we drove down the road.
“Beth, are you listening?”
“I heard you.” I continued to look out the window, contemplating if I should tell him what Elena had said to me.
“We convinced the Board to hire her. She wouldn’t do something like that against us.” Billy seemed genuinely upset at the thought.
“She doesn’t know we convinced them to give her the job.”
“No, but she still wouldn’t do that.”
“Yet, that is exactly what she told me before I lunged at her.”
I wasn’t going to tell him, but it came tumbling out of my mouth before I could stop it.
“What?” Billy practically yelled.
“She called me a princess, I’m starting to hate that, by the way.” I told him everything she had said about being glad I had upset him because it would be easier to replace me. I neglected to mention her crazy plan to move in with him, that was going to be a hysterical, side splitting conversation I wanted to be a witness to not a part of.
Billy’s face began to turn a shade of red that only happened when he was extremely angry.
“Well,” he calmly started. “Looks like I’ll be having a very uncomfortable conversation tonight.”
“Don’t go berserk on her,” Al warned. “She is still the head of the studio and technically the boss.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
“Billy, since you’re speaking to me right now, I really want to apologize for the engagement and not telling you personally,” I began to explain. “I tried telling you before going into the meeting, but you were in such a rush, I wasn’t able to get a word in edgewise.” Realizing my words may have sounded accusatory, I quickly added, “not that I’m blaming you, I’m not. I should’ve told you after the meeting, but I was so blown away by the fact you slept with her that I completely forgot—”
“Beth,” Billy cut me off. “It’s okay. I was more upset that you agreed to marry him than you not telling me.”
“You slept with Elena?” Al cut us off, obviously not hearing any other part of our conversation. “Are you kidding me? Does anyone know?”
“Besides Elizabeth? I don’t think anyone does.”
“Except the photographer that took the pictures of me almost cracking her in the face. He may put two and two together that she was pulling out of Billy’s driveway.”
“You two are going to be the end of me,” Al complained.
***
“I go away for two weeks on vacation and you take on an extra movie role?” my agent, Adam, loudly questioned, as I walked in the front door of my house after leaving Billy and Al.
I nearly jumped out of my skin at the unexpected visitor.
“How did you get in here?” I asked, shocked to find him standing in the front hallway.
“I let myself in.”
“Where the hell are my security guys?” I asked, looking around the front entrance of my house. No one was around.
“Why didn’t you tell me you took on this role in Las Vegas?”
“I thought Billy told you, he said he had it all arranged.”
“No, he neglected to tell me, and I come back from vacation to find out you are putting off the Warner Brothers’ movie.” He was almost hysterical. “That’s a huge franchise movie, why would you do that? No, the better question is why was any of this done without going through me first?”
My short, balding, always in a suit agent was normally high strung as it was, but he seemed unusually frantic.
“First of all, you were on vacation. Secondly, Billy told me he had Warner Brothers move production back sixty days to give me time for the Vegas movie,” I explained. “I still want to do the Warner Brothers movie. A shower scene with Channing Tatum? Uh, yes please.”
“Well they are under the distinct impression that you are pulling out of your contract and are threatening to sue.”
“Oh, that’s not good.” I took my phone out of my purse and called Billy. I was now starting to panic as well.
“Why does Warner Brothers think I’m not doing their movie? I thought you had rearranged everything,” I asked as soon as he answered the phone.
“I did, I told them that you needed an extra sixty days and they agreed.”
“Well they’re telling Adam that I backed out of it and threatening a lawsuit. I don’t want a lawsuit, Billy, and I want my shower scene with Channing Tatum.”
“Goddamn executives. Let me deal with this. I’ll call you back.” He hung up before I could respond.
“Warner Brothers is pissed.” Adam said as he followed me into the kitchen. “They aren’t going to let Billy Stone walk in and call the shots.”
I laughed in response as I poured two glasses of iced tea and handed him one.
“I think Billy can be pretty persuasive.” I took a sip from my glass and sat, gesturing for him to sit at the table. He reluctantly sat across from me while I silently prayed Billy cleaned up the mess.
“I know Billy has powerful friends and that gives him some power in this town, but he simply can’t dictate to a major studio what the schedule is going to be for their movie.”
No sooner had he finished speaking when both of our cell phones rang at the same time.
“It’s dealt with,” Billy said when I answered.
“Thank you, I think Mr. High-Strung over here was going to have an aneurysm. He didn’t think you’d pull it off.”
“He doesn’t know me very well, does he?”
“Dinner later?” I asked. “Or will you be with Elena?”
“I don’t want to see her anytime soon. I have to figure out what I’m going to say to her. Aren’t you going to be with your ugly-ass fiancé before he leaves?”
“Another new nickname for Cal, nice.” I smiled, happy Billy and I were back to our old ways. “Actually, I haven’t seen or heard from him since he yelled at me outside your house the other day.”
“Trouble in paradise?” Billy asked.
“How the hell does he do that?” my agent yelled after he hung up his phone.
“I better go,” I said to Billy. “Six o’clock, I’ll meet you in my driveway.”
“Deal.” Billy hung up.
“That was the head of the Warner Brothers studio and they have agreed to move back production until Billy’s movie is complete. Regardless of how long it takes.” He sounded flabbergasted.
Clearly, he didn’t know what having power was really like.
***
Shortly after six o’clock that evening Billy, and I arrived at La Vida Dolce, an amazing Italian restaurant in Beverly Hills.
As we got out of the car, we were met with a bunch of photographers yelling our names. The paparazzi were relentless; everywhere we went, they were there. It was a part of the lifestyle I had gotten used to. I found there were three types of paparazzi, the first was the regular guys just looking for a picture to make money. They would ask you questions about your day or how dinner was at the restaurant you were leaving. These were nice guys and I liked those photographers.
Then there were the bolder photographers that asked questions to get a scoop. “Why did you hit Brianna Thompson?” These photographers weren’t so bad either but sometimes the questions got a little personal which I didn’t like.
Last but not least there was the kind of paparazzi that tried to provoke a reaction from us with blatant lies. “Elizabeth, is it true you’re pregnant?” These photographers I liked least of all.
Billy and I ignored their assault on our ears, the multiple camera flashes going off, and quickly entered the restaurant.
La Vida Dolce was a classic Italian restaurant, it had dim lighting but a warm, glowing, welcoming atmosphere. When we walked through the door, the hostess immediately greeted us.
“Good evening, Miss Stanfield and Mr. Stone. We have your usual table ready.”
“Our usual table?” I asked Billy as we were led past a long bar with brick shelves on the back wall that housed all different kinds bottles of alcohol. With the soft yellow lighting, it gave a beautiful effect of stained glass windows.
“What’s wrong with our usual table?” Billy asked.
“It’s a bit big for two of us, don’t you think?”
Billy ignored my question as we followed the hostess past all the other tables that were filled with patrons to the back of the restaurant. Some acknowledged us by whispering our names to their dinner companions; others completely ignored us, in true Beverly Hills fashion.
The hostess stopped at a large, round leather booth that sat against the back wall of the restaurant. It could easily fit ten people.
“Shall I get you your usual drinks?” she asked as we slid on either side of the booth only to sit almost side by side in the middle.
“Yes, please,” I responded as I opened the extensive, leather bound menu.
“Why are you even bothering looking at that?” Billy asked. “You always order the same thing.”
“Maybe I want to switch it up tonight.” I answered in a haughty tone.
“Do you?”
“No.” I answered honestly and closed the menu while Billy laughed at me.
The hostess came back with a bourbon for Billy and a wine glass filled with their finest apple juice for me. It was nice to go to a restaurant that catered to my distaste for alcohol. I did, however, prefer apple juice in a wine glass because anyone from a distance would automatically assume it was wine and think I was a grown up.
Billy shook his head at my choice of beverage. I glared at him in response over the top of my glass.
The waiter came over and took our orders, a chicken parmesan with spaghetti Bolognese for myself and a Sinatra steak for Billy, aptly named after the restaurant’s once most famous regular customer.
“So, where’s the ring?” Billy abruptly asked after the waiter had left.
“He hasn’t given me one yet.” I took a nervous sip of my juice. I didn’t particularly want to have a conversation with Billy about my engagement. For some reason, I felt embarrassed about it with him.
“He proposed to you without a ring?” He put his drink down and leaned on the table with both elbows and shook his head.
“It was spontaneous,” I defended.
“You realize the guy is a tool, right?”
I didn’t respond as I knew he was right but I had been with Cal for two years and I didn’t want to give up on the relationship yet. I still held out hope that Cal would become the good, loving person I believed he could be.
“You need someone who appreciates you.” He began on a tirade of why I should be with him instead of Cal. It was not the first time I had heard this speech. “You need someone that loves you unconditionally. Someone who loves the way you laugh, loves the cute way you bite your bottom lip when you’re deep in thought, loves the way you can take control of any situation, and loves the way you will haul off and punch someone when they truly piss you off.”
“How do you know that’s not how Cal feels about me?”
Billy took a drink of his bourbon as he watched me intently.
“He could,” I continued, filling the awkward silence.
“I just can’t believe you agreed to marry him. I’m still in shock by that.” He put his glass down on the table.
“Well,” I began, deciding if I should explain to him that I never actually said yes to Cal. “I didn’t actually say—”
“Look who’s here.” I was cut off by someone coming to our table. “The prom queen and her king together.”
“Sonny Micheletti,” I answered in an aggravated tone as he slid into the booth across from me. “What do you want?” I asked, not hiding my disdain.
“What? I can’t come over and say hello to my two favorite celebrities?”
Standing beside our table were Billy’s part-time bodyguards, Tony and Vince, but they were mainly Sonny’s lackeys.
“Of course you can.” Billy welcomed him as he waved for the waiter. “Have a drink on us.”
Sonny gave me a smartass smile that I would have loved to smack off his face.
“So,” Sonny began as he looked around. “Frank Sinatra’s old booth, hunh? Why do you guys always sit here?”
“It’s the best table in the place,” Billy answered as Sonny gave the waiter his drink order.
Sonny was the supposed head of the Micheletti crime family. Rumor had it that Billy got everything he wanted in Hollywood because of Sonny’s influence and violent tendencies.
Sonny had always irritated me with his arrogant attitude. He was a tall, dark-haired, handsome, powerful-looking man who always wore two thousand dollar suits and a gold ring on the pinky finger of his left hand.
“I’ll ask you again,” I curtly directed towards Sonny. “What do you want?”
“You know, Elizabeth,” Sonny responded, mirroring my tone. “For all the things I’ve done for you recently, you could be a little more appreciative and treat me with respect.”
“You’ve done nothing for me.”
“No? I always do favors for Billy, which directly helps you. So don’t give me any of your holier than thou attitude.”
I glared at him in response.
“That’s enough, you two,” Billy intervened.
“Elizabeth, darling.” Sonny suddenly changed his tone to a softer, friendlier one. “Let’s not argue.” He smiled, like a snake.
I opened my mouth to sarcastically respond but saw Billy ‘s icy stare.
“Fine,” I begrudgingly agreed.
“Sonny.” Billy became serious. “To what do we owe this pleasure?”
“Since you asked.” Sonny took a drink of the rye and coke the waiter had set in front of him. “I do have a favor to ask.”
“I knew it,” I blurted out. It was always Sonny’s way, if you ask for a favor he expected one in return.
“Anything.” Billy put up his hand to stop me. “What can we do?”
“I hear you’re filming a movie in Vegas starting in a few weeks.”
“Yes, that’s true.” Billy confirmed.
“I need you to film at a couple of specific casinos that need some free publicity.”
“Come on,” I argued. “Just say it, Sonny, a couple of your casinos are starting to tank and you want to use our movie to help you make money.”
“Now you’re getting it.” Sonny winked at me.
“No problem, we would be happy to do it,” Billy cut in.
“Great.” Sonny clapped his hands together. “I’ll need the movie to be shot in front of and inside the casinos of each place.”
“Consider it done,” Billy agreed. “I’ll send you the production schedule so we can set up shoot times at each site.”
“Perfect.” Sonny seemed quite pleased with himself. “Look at us making deals at Sinatra’s table. I’m sure if this table could talk…”
“It would say some things never change, don’t they?” I sarcastically responded.
“Always good to see you two.” Sonny stood from the table. “Forgive me, Elizabeth, I forgot to congratulate you on your recent engagement.”
“Oh yeah, thanks,” I half-heartedly responded.
“I always thought that you would marry this stronzo.” Sonny motioned to Billy, calling him the equivalent to an ass in Italian.
“I did too,” Billy mumbled as he took another drink of his bourbon.
My stomach knotted and I felt nauseated as I glanced at Billy. It upset me to see him look so hurt.
“You never know what the future might bring,” I responded to Sonny.
“Well if you ever marry Billy, then I will come to the wedding, but I will not watch you marry Cal.” He announced coldly.
I was watching Billy, who was staring into his glass seemingly deep in thought.
“What does that mean?” I asked, quickly turning to Sonny, stunned at the change in his tone when speaking of my fiancé.
“You heard me.” Sonny fixed me with a steel look. “Billy, I’ll be in touch.”
“What do you suppose he meant by that?” I asked after Sonny and his goons had walked away.
“I think it means he likes Cal as much as I do.”